Simon Sellars: Sleepy Brain Archives

interview by Lawrence Ytzhak Braithwaite

Sk8er/filmmaker/spoken word artist 8.bliss is to hip hop what Jonathan Richman was to rock ‘n’ roll. Naive notes from a North American kid in this post hip hop–hype and 911 thuggology mix up is what became the thesis of A Train of Events, Bliss’s first full-length album. On this, we hear “Full Moon Meeting”, a smooth, massive call-and-response. There’s also a tight tag-team flex between the artist and his dad, as well as “Poetic Shorts”, 8.bliss’s treatise on hip hop and spoken word, where the MC sounds off with a splendid evocation of Wagnerian poetics. Recently married and on a move to NYC, 8.bliss has plans for a follow-up to A Train of Events. But for now, we sit and speak with 8.bliss and absorb the basic subtext to his poetry, music, films – and probably his sk8in style.
Ytzhak

“Check it out. Sorry it took so long. Life’s been hectic.”

Peace, Bliss. How would start to break down your work? Some call it hip hop, some call it spoken word, and some call it a future.

Future? I like that. I never heard that. Basically, it’s just verbal hip-hoptic expression without traditional boundaries. Off beat, on beat, flat, expressive, serious, personal. I don’t know. But I learned that when I introduce it to people, I have to call it “spoken word/hip hop” cause when I call it hip hop they judge it off their expectations of what hip hop is or has been. It’s not really club music, or something to get drunk to. I want people’s full attention. It’s more of an audio experience. I beat box, freestyle, write poetry, love, evolve. Jus’ call it what you want. Labels are just language and language has boundaries.

On A Train of Events you say you’re “freestyling”. Does that mean most of the CD – and your work – is improvised?

About a quarter of the album was in the moment. And some tracks were pieces I used to perform a capella – “off the head” at poetry readings – that I never wrote down. So, in a sense, those tracks are like evolved freestyles – roads frequently travelled.

Saul Williams refuses to call himself an MC; he’s described as a spoken-word performer. Are you an MC?

I guess so. But even when I feel like I’m rappin’, people hear it as poetry, cause the content is different. So I guess what I do now is like “MC poetics”. But to me, there is a definite difference between when I’m intentionally rappin’ and when I’m intentionally spittin’ poetry.

What are some differences between the two?

Rappin’ is more on beat: your voice is more of a drum, somethin’ to bob your head to. The rhyme scene is different. But when you’re spittin’ poetry, your voice is more like a string instrument, an element separate from the beat that provides emotional support and strength. It’s harder to bob your head when you’re truly feelin’ the poetry. I’m starting to learn how to meld the two.

How did you get into hip hop and spoken word?

I’ve been listening to hip hop for 15 years and I’ve been writing poetry for about nine. About four years ago I decided to start speaking it; I got all obsessed with the spoken word scene. For a couple of years, hip hop was getting me down. It wasn’t really elevating. Then I went to a poetry slam. I was blown away – it was so personal it grabbed my soul. It’s so universal. It had lyricism far beyond anything I’d heard in hip hop, but since there wasn’t a beat anyone could appreciate it.

Do you battle?

Naw, I build.

What other elements of hip hop interest you?

I’ve got love for it all: dancing, graf. But I’m more into the arts. Like I’ve done some paintin’ myself, but I brought brushes along with the cans.

You have a film background. What sort of films do you make and how does this work into your poetry?

I’m making experimental documentaries. I describe my filmmaking as rhythmic inspiration, a momentary connection preserved. My poetry is the same: I look at a song as an auditory film for the blind.

What musical and film inspirations are important to you?

The film Baraka – if you haven’t seen it, you must. It takes place in 25 different countries and there’s no dialogue. It’s all visuals – breathtaking. Music: man, so many people. Anyone who’s not scared to take chances, and is real with who they are.

Let me speak on the visuals as a complement to the spoken word and the lyrical. Baraka has fluidity to it, like a freestyle atmosphere to Philip Glass’s soundtrack. Do you approach your words and music like this, especially when you put them to film?

Yes and no. With my “Face to Face” homeless music video/doco, I shot the footage around the story that I had already recorded. But the whole experience was definitely a blessing. It just worked out perfectly. The whole piece was shot in one take, the rappin’ and all that, so there is definitely a filmic freestyle atmosphere about it. And with “Samadhi”, my experimental doco on meditation, I had collected the images for years and the soundtrack evolved as the film did. The finished product wasn’t conceptualised at all from the beginning. I now plan to release both pieces on a DVD titled, Visions Vol.1. I’ve also got two features ready to be edited right now, a doco and a narrative – both are truly inspired creative works. The doco is my baby – it’s about a paraplegic street musician, and it’s all shot. I just need finishing funds.

How did you hook up with UK hip hop artist D-Tonk for your anti-war elbow?

He contacted me through my website and asked me to do an anti-war collaboration. I gratefully accepted. He mailed me a beat and I put down a verse. He’s still finishing the album up. I’m not sure when it’ll be released.

Do you feel a difference in approach and style between UK and North American hip hop MCs and DJs?

Yeah, somewhat. I still haven’t heard much of what the UK’s got. But I’m feelin’ it. I love hearing different accents and styles. Folks seem a bit more expressive and eager to collaborate in the UK, more accepting of variety. And they seem to listen closer to the words spoken. But I don’t know, I shouldn’t generalise.

On A Train of Events, your elbow, “Like Father Like Son,” sees your dad recite a few lines with you. How did that all come about?

I had started performing poetry and I had some crazy pieces. I lived in San Francisco and my folks still live in Detroit. A couple years back, they were out in California for a visit, so I shared some pieces with them. They didn’t know what to think, especially my father, so one morning he wrote me a poem and asked for a reply. His poem was, “Am I a stranger to you, are you my son? Am I a stranger to you, are you my father?” That blew me away. It was the first time in 24 years on this planet that my dad had ever called out to me. I didn’t know what to write back. A year later, he was visiting for my graduation, and I still hadn’t dealt with the poem yet, so I had him record his piece on my mic. Hearing my dad’s voice recorded, I just had to make a track out of it. So I answered him – I told him just why I’m a stranger to him, although he’s not much of a stranger to me. It was a great medium for communication. Now I’m 27, and our relationship is beautiful.

Besides working with your boy, DJ eXacto, you have a few other people in your set. Can you give a little background on the other performers in your crew?

It’s just my friends. The folks on A Train of Events were the folks I got into this with. We’d just freestyle in this Berkeley backyard, go to poetry readings, inspire each other. I wanted to capture that time in my life. I wanted to be able to listen to it years later and think of them. There are a few crucial people missing, though, but that was the idea – high-talent dreamers, nomads, wide-eyed with life.

How did your involvement with “Not in Our Name” come about?

There was a “Not in Our Name” show in SF and I was asked to come and perform. I had already made some war-conscious tracks: one with D-Tonk, and I’m working on another with this cat Kruze, from Scotland. I had already made this track where “I declare my independence from all this shit”, so “Not in Our Name” made me smile. And the way Saul Williams did the pledge is so powerful. I’ve got deep respect for him.

What, in your eyes, is the state of the United States at this point in history ?

Cloudy.

…:: LINKS
8.bliss/Omnipresent Records (contains MP3s and video excerpts of 8.bliss’s work)